Begin Again
by JBS-Forever
Summary: (Sequel to Kidnapped) Ponyboy is home and everything is finally starting to feel normal again; but soon he'll realize that nothing can stay normal for long. With the kidnapping case still open, the Socs free, and the new realization that he's starting to repress the memories of what happened to him, Ponyboy will only have so long to talk before he runs out of time.
1. Chapter 1

**It's time for the sequel! Yay!**

**If you haven't read "Kidnapped," I recommend you do, as this might be a little confusing. If you haven't or don't want to, I hold no responsibility for any confusion that comes upon you :) **

**Short chapter to start us off, but the next one will be longer. **

**I hope you guys will stick around for this sequel and I hope you enjoy!**

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To tell you the truth, I think I knew somewhere inside me that it was going to happen.

I knew that I was no match. I was still healing. Darry told me it would take a while before I felt normal again, before I could do all the things I did before the "accident." No one likes the word "kidnapping" around here. I guess calling it an accident gives some kind of emotional justification.

Either way, I should have known what was going to happen.

Because in that moment, right after I tipped Two-Bit's chair backwards, I realized I was going down.

I meant to run, but my cast has been slowing me down ever since I got it. Two-Bit caught me and tackled me to the floor, squashing the living daylights out of me.

"Say uncle!" He demands playfully.

Before I can get the chance to tell him to bite me, Darry comes into the living room and picks him up under the arms, dropping him to the floor next to me.

"Leave him be," Darry says.

I scramble to my feet. "I would have got you if it wasn't for this stupid cast," I say.

Two-Bit jumps up and ruffles my hair. "Sure you would have, kid."

I sit down on the arm of the couch and dig my fingers under the plaster. "How long am I supposed to wear this thing anyway?"

"Six months," Sodapop says with a mouthful of chocolate cake as he comes into the room. Darry walks by and smacks him in the back of the head.

"Six _weeks_, Ponyboy."

"Hasn't it been six weeks?" I ask. "You said I was gone for two."

Darry raises an eyebrow. "You were gone for three, but unfortunately those weeks don't count in your favor. The doctor broke your leg again, remember?"

"Oh, right," I mutter, rubbing my head. "Stupid doctor."

"You've got another week."

It seems like it's been a lot longer than a few weeks since the day Jay drugged me and apologized about everything. I've gotten a lot better, thanks to Deborah, but I've been forgetting parts of what happened to me. She says I'm starting to repress memories. She told me it's a self-defense mechanism. That my brain thinks it's best I don't remember, or something like that. She told me I had already repressed some of the memories. That's why I don't remember being strangled, even though there was bruising around my neck. I wonder what else happened that I don't remember.

Sodapop sleeps with me every night. The nightmares have started to go away, but they still happen enough to scare Darry and Sodapop. I don't remember most of them. I guess that's a defense mechanism, too.

Darry heads to the kitchen with Sodapop. The moment he's gone, Two-Bit pulls me into a headlock and I struggle against him, laughing.

"Say mercy!"

"Never," I growl, trying to pry his arm free. He flips me out of the headlock and grabs my wrist, pinning it behind me.

Then my world goes black.

I'm in and out of a new scene. People are yelling. Someone is pulling my hands together, pushing tape over my mouth.

I'm being carried.

I'm in a trunk.

A boy is saying something to me–something that I can't make out–and then I'm submerged into darkness.

"Ponyboy, wake up," a voice says gently.

Someone is running a hand through my hair. The tape has disappeared and I'm lying flat on the ground, no longer in the trunk. The hand moves to my forehead and cheek and the voice urges me again to come back to reality.

I open my eyes.

Two-Bit, Sodapop, and Darry are above me, looking at me in concern. I realize Soda is the one touching me and I instantly push his hand away. It's a weak motion, but he moves it regardless.

I open my mouth and no words come out. I'm shaking.

"Are you okay?" Darry asks.

"I don't know," I whisper, pushing myself up. "What happened?"

"You collapsed," Sodapop says. "Are you dizzy? Do you feel sick?"

I shake my head as tears spring into my eyes. Quickly, I try to blink them away.

"Pone?" Sodapop reaches out to put a hand on my shoulder and I flinch, moving away from him.

"Don't touch me," I say. "Please."

Sodapop brings his hand back, shooting Darry a worried look. Darry eyes me closely.

"Are you okay?" He asks again. I shake my head and then nod, shoving the heels of my hands into my eyes.

"I don't know."

"Damn it, Two-Bit," Darry says. "I told you not to horse around with him like that."

I lower my hands and see that Two-Bit looks absolutely miserable. It looks like he might be sick. He shifts his gaze to the ground.

"It's not his fault," I mumble. I let out a deep breath and calm my nerves. "I'm okay."

Darry gets to his feet and moves behind me, sticking his hands under my arms. He pulls me to my feet and holds onto me for a second, making sure I won't fall again. Two-Bit and Sodapop stand as well.

"I'm so sorry," Two-Bit says softly.

"It ain't your fault," I say, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "I'm just…a mess."

"You're not a mess," he says defensively.

I smile. "Yeah, I am. But it's okay."

"Are you sure you're all right?" Darry asks.

"Yeah, I'm all right," I say. "I probably just need some food or something."

"Maybe you should go lay down," Sodapop suggests.

"No!"

Everyone looks at me in surprise. I quickly calm my voice. "No, I'm okay. Really."

Sodapop looks at me unsurely. "Okay, Pone."

"Let's watch some TV," Two-Bit says, pulling me to the couch with him. Sodapop and Darry exchange a few quiet words while I sit down. I sigh and close my eyes.

I try to pick my brain to understand what I was seeing, but it doesn't make sense. I don't remember it. I guess it's not such a bad thing, though. I don't think I want to remember it anyway.

Two-Bit glances at me a few times and I resist the urge to punch him. I finally got everyone to stop treating me like I was made of glass. I don't need them to start again. And I definitely don't miss that look of pity and concern that Two-Bit is giving me now. It makes me feel fragile, vulnerable. I hate it.

"Hey, Pone," Darry calls. "Can you come help me find something?"

I look at him skeptically. "Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because you just wanna pull me aside to talk to me," I say with a smug smile. "And I'm fine and don't wanna have that conversation where I try to convince you and you don't believe me. So just trust me for once, okay?"

Darry rolls his eyes. Both Sodapop and Two-Bit are trying to hide smiles.

"Don't be a smart mouth," he says. I grin.

"Would you rather I be dumb?"

"I'd rather you be quiet."

Two-Bit leans back and links his fingers behind his head. "What a beautiful day in the Curtis house."

"Yeah," I say. "Real good to be back."

Two-Bit laughs and chucks me across the shoulder. "Isn't it, though?"

I smile. "Wouldn't trade it for the world."


	2. Chapter 2

**Yay! Glad you guys are excited! I am, too!**

**Enjoy!**

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Around me is a swirl of colors and chaos. I blink, trying to get things to make sense, but nothing does. People are talking. I can't see them. Someone is pushing me into someone else and I'm shoved back and forth a few times before I fall.

The voices get louder, the colors blur together. I close my eyes and cover my ears.

Then everything stops.

I open my eyes again and find myself back in my room, in my bed. Sodapop is sound asleep next to me.

I sit up, running a hand back through my damp hair. The shirt I decided to sleep in is sticking to my back; I get to my feet and strip it off, throwing it across the room towards the other dirty clothes.

In just my sweats, I pad barefoot out into the hall and to the bathroom. I stopped wearing socks around the house because wearing just one felt weird. I close the door and turn the sink on, running water over my face. I glance up at the mirror and frown.

The bruises on my face have lessened significantly, but they haven't disappeared. Darry asked my doctor if it was normal that they were taking so long to heal, since I've never had bruises that stayed more than a few days. The doctor said it was normal, but I see the way Darry looks at the ones on my wrists.

I stopped looking a long time ago.

"Pone?"

I shut the water off and open the door. Darry is standing in the doorway, still dressed in his work clothes.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," I say, sizing him up. "Did you go to sleep in your clothes?"

He shakes his head. "Haven't gone to sleep yet. I just got home."

"Oh."

"Did you have a nightmare?"

"Yeah." I sigh. "I don't remember what it was about."

Darry gives me a concerned look. I know that before, when I first came home, I had nightmares almost constantly about what happened to me. I remember the terror, the fear, the hurt; but I don't remember exactly what happened.

There are some things I do remember, but then I have blank chunks of time. Just blackness. Nothing. I know I wrote it down in that journal, but ever since I started forgetting stuff, Darry won't let me read it. He hasn't read it himself, but he knows what's inside. That's why he won't read it.

"Well, as long as you're awake, I need to talk to you," he says.

"Okay."

I follow him out to the living room and sit down on the couch. He flips on the light and then sits on the coffee table in front of me. He does that a lot, but I'm not sure why.

"Do you remember when that cop came to get information from you and you said you didn't remember who took you?" He asks, diving right in. I look down and nod.

"Well." He hesitates for a moment, drumming his fingers on his thigh. "The suspects he had for you to look at…they're free. I got a call earlier saying that they don't have enough evidence to hold them. They had to let them go."

I can feel the blood draining from my face. I know the cop told Darry and Sodapop that I hadn't looked at the pictures of the Socs, but I did. I knew who they were. And I think Darry knows that, too.

"Okay," I whisper.

"You still can tell them, Ponyboy," he says softly. "You still can put those Socs in jail."

I shake my head. "I need to get back to bed…before Sodapop wakes up and sees I'm not there."

And then I leave before he can say anything else.

XxX

I don't go back to sleep. My mind is racing and my heart is pounding loudly in my ears. I wonder if Sodapop can hear it.

Things at school are bad enough without those Socs there. Their friends pick on me. They think it's my fault the Socs are in jail. I guess it is.

Two-Bit and Steve are always there to defend me, but they can't be there forever. They can't be everywhere I am all the time. Eventually one of the Socs will get to me, and I don't know what happens after that.

I finally drift off into a fitful sleep and wake up sometime later when Sodapop gets up.

I want to keep sleeping, but the house is now loud and chaotic. I can hear Steve and Two-Bit wrestling in the living room and knocking things over. Darry is yelling at them to be quiet. Sodapop is racing in and out of our room, shouting things to Darry. The TV is on, the stereo is blaring. I finally groan and sit up.

"Good morning, sleepy head," Sodapop teases as he comes into the room again in nothing but a towel. I run a hand back through my messy hair and then rub my eyes.

"You all right?" He asks. He does that a lot when I don't respond right away.

"I'm good," I say. "You guys are really loud."

He grins and goes to the dresser, ripping open drawers and throwing out clothes. "Darry!" He yells. "Where are my jeans?"

"In my room," Darry calls back. Sodapop rushes off to get them.

I pull a shirt on and stumble my way out to the bathroom to fix my hair. I really hate looking in the mirror lately. I just want to look like my old self, but I'm afraid that I don't even remember who that boy was. Maybe I never existed before the kidnapping. Maybe that's all my life ever was and I just imagined this world before then. Maybe I'm still there and this isn't real. I could have created this place to escape from the hell I'm actually living in.

I feel my stomach drop and I sit down on the edge of the tub. I need to stop thinking.

"Ponyboy, hurry up in there," Sodapop says, pounding on the door. "I gotta do my hair."

I stand up and pull the door open, letting him slide in. I sit back down and watch him smooth back his hair with a little bit of grease. Sodapop and I don't have to use much grease. Well, I did until my hair grew back after Johnny cut it all off. Now I don't.

"What's a matter?" Sodapop asks, glancing my way as he runs a comb through his hair. There was a time when I thought I'd never see him again. I can't imagine what my life would be like if that was true. Sodapop was like sunshine. He was that glow that everyone needed in their life to make them feel better.

"Nothing," I say, giving him a smile. I stand again and stretch out my arms, patting him on the back as I leave. He grins and watches me in the mirror.

Darry's in the kitchen when I get there. He's reading the paper while he waits for his coffee to finish.

"Hey, Dar," I say. He looks over and grunts.

"Hey."

I open the cupboard and look at the few objects that litter the inside. The fridge looks the same. "When are you gonna go shopping?"

Darry grabs a mug. "Today. We're a little short on cash, so I can't get a lot."

"Oh." I close the cupboard and lean back against the counter. "Are we in debt?"

"We're getting there," Darry says, pouring coffee into his mug.

"I'm sorry," I mutter. He sighs and walks over to me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't be," he says. "I'd rather have you here and have no money at all. There's nothing I wouldn't do to make sure you were safe."

I nod guiltily. He squeezes my shoulder and glances at the clock. "Soda, you're gonna be late!"

"Where's he going?" I ask.

"Work."

"But it's Saturday."

Darry takes a drink of his coffee and makes a sour face. He dumps the remains in the sink. "People don't stop living on Saturdays, Pone."

_You don't just stop living because you lose someone._

"Oh. Right." I rub my forehead. He gives me one of those faces that annoys me.

"You all right?"

I frown. "Why does everyone always ask me that?"

"I think we have good reason to," he says, shrugging. Sodapop rushes into the kitchen and rips open the fridge. He goes to grab the carton of chocolate milk, but it's not there.

"Darry," he whines.

"Yeah, yeah," Darry says, waving him off. "I'm going to the store. Just chill."

Sodapop sticks his tongue out.

"Soda," Steve calls. "Let's go!"

Sodapop bids us goodbye and shoves his DX cap on his head, hurrying out of the room.

"Well," Darry says. "Wanna go to the store with me?"

I shrug. "Sure."

Two-Bit peaks his head into the kitchen. "We're going to the store?"

Darry rolls his eyes.

XxX

Darry grabs a cart and Two-Bit rushes off in front of us. I think he knows that we don't have a lot of money, because instead of grabbing things and throwing them at us like he would before, he just gushes about all the cool stuff he wants.

Darry gets the normal things. He makes sure to get chocolate milk and chocolate cake mix. We could live off those if we needed to.

As we pass the cookies, he reaches out absentmindedly and grabs my favorite kind before I get the chance. I smile at him, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"Go find Two-Bit, will ya?" He asks. "I gotta go to the back of the store and then we'll leave. I'll save you some walking on that cast."

I nod and start towards where I hear the most commotion. That's usually where Two-Bit is.

But it's within the quiet that I find him. He's down an isle, face to face with a couple of Socs. Socs don't usually shop here. They go to the expensive stores. Two-Bit's back is tense and all of them are whispering loudly. I decide to back out before I get in the middle, but one of the Socs sees me and Two-Bit turns around quickly.

"Let's go," he says, starting towards me.

"That's what I thought," one of the Socs smirks. Two-Bit rounds on him angrily, grabbing him by the front of the shirt. He says something so low that I can't hear and then shoves the Soc back. Without another word, he turns away and grabs me as he stalks by.

"Two-Bit," I hiss. He seems to realize he's hurting me and loosens his grip, but doesn't say anything.

Darry is coming up to the front of the store and Two-Bit pulls me over to him.

"We're leaving," Two-Bit says. His voice is hard and angry. I frown and Darry does the same.

"What's wrong?"

"I'll tell you later," he says. "You go check out. I'm taking Ponyboy outside."

Darry understands that when Two-Bit is upset, it's not something to mess with. He nods and takes the cart up to one of the open registers.

Two-Bit pulls me away again, but I look back to see those Socs standing at the end of an isle. One of them has his arms crossed over his chest and when he meets my gaze, he smirks and waves goodbye.

I feel the blood rush from my head and everything starts to spin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's a quick update for you guys before I disappear for a little bit. I'm in a show right now and we've been doing a lot of rehearsing and a lot of dancing, so it's taking a lot of time from me. I wonder how many times I can say "a lot" in a sentence?**

**Anyway, thanks for the reviews! Glad you guys are still here :) **

**Sorry about spelling mistakes!**

**Enjoy!**

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"So what happened?" I finally ask as Two-Bit helps me bring in the groceries. He looks over at Ponyboy and then back to me.

"I'll tell you later."

"Don't do that," Ponyboy says. "I'm not a child. You don't need to keep secrets from me."

"I'm not keeping secrets, Pone," Two-Bit says easily. "It's just not something you need to worry about."

"Why?" Ponyboy demands. It's rare that he ever gets sassy with Two-Bit, but his emotions have been going all over the place since he got back. I know it's to be expected, but it's weird when he gets moody. It's just too out of character.

"Just trust me."

Ponyboy gets mad–-the quiet kind of mad, and storms off to his room. Two-Bit makes an apologetic gesture, but I shrug it off and head to the kitchen. Ponyboy will get over it.

"So tell me."

"Those Socs saw us in the truck and followed us into the store," Two-Bit says. I start pulling things out of the bags and putting them away.

"Why?"

"To mess with Ponyboy," Two-Bit growls. I look over at him. There's a rage in his eyes that I rarely ever see.

"Why do they want to mess with him?" I ask, hearing the own bitterness in my voice.

"Why do you think, Darry? I'm pretty sure one of them was one of the ones the cops had as a suspect. That's probably why Ponyboy looked like he was gonna be sick."

I slam the cupboard door closed and sigh. "You need to watch him, Two-Bit. Don't let him be by himself. I don't like this at all."

Two-Bit nods. "Me either. I wish he would just tell the cops who took him."

"Soon enough he probably won't even remember," I say.

Two-Bit frowns. "What do you mean?"

"He's repressing memories," I say. "He's already forgotten about half of what's happened to him."

"But he remembered before," Two-Bit says in confusion. I nod.

"Yeah, his therapist says this happens sometimes. I guess it's too hard for Ponyboy to deal with, so his mind is repressing it to make it easier."

"It has been pretty rough for him." Two-Bit sighs.

"Yeah, it has," I say. "But if he forgets who did all this, we'll probably never be able to put them in jail."

"And what happens then?"

I shake my head. "I dunno, Two-Bit."

XxX

Ponyboy stays in his room and won't come out for dinner. I yell at him right as Sodapop comes in the door and then Soda gets mad at me because I'm not supposed to yell at Ponyboy anymore.

Ponyboy finally decides to come eat, but before he does, I fill Sodapop in on everything that happened at the store. He's still mad, but it's not at me anymore. We both know that the Socs have a tendency of taking things too far. Ponyboy is just a child. He's already been through enough.

Ponyboy sulks through most of dinner and doesn't eat much. Sodapop gets him to laugh a few times, but he's still frustrated that no one will tell him what's going on. I think, in his heart, he actually knows why those Socs were there. He knows they want to get into his mind and mess with him.

And he knows that with school tomorrow, Sodapop and I are extremely worried about what's going to happen.

XxX

Monday morning is oddly quiet. As I eat breakfast on the couch, Darry grabs Steve and Two-Bit and takes them to the kitchen so I can't hear what he's saying. I'm not stupid, though.

"Remember, stay close to Steve and Two-Bit, okay?" Sodapop says for the millionth time.

"I know, Soda."

I don't understand why everyone is so tense and nervous today. I don't think the Socs will be stupid enough to try anything with me in front of everyone.

But what do I know?

Two-Bit drives us to school and he and Steve stick by me and walk with me to my first class. Nothing seems too out of the ordinary, but Two-Bit is tense and it unnerves me.

There's a buzz in my first class between the greasers that continues long after my teacher tries to start teaching. Sometimes people look back at me and then nod to each other. Other times I hear my name within their whispers.

When we're supposed to be working on a paper, a few of my friends come over to me.

"What's going on?" I ask them.

"Man, everyone is jazzed up," Andy says. "Those Socs that were accused of hurting you are back at school. Everyone knows they did it. It's so obvious."

I rub my forehead. "Is it?"

"Yeah!" Tommy chimes in. "They're acting extra Soc-y today. Why didn't you turn them in again?"

"I never saw who did it," I say wearily.

"Oh. Right."

My friends share a look that says they don't believe me. That's okay, because I don't really believe me either.

"Why is everyone so worked up?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"Cause those Socs have taken things too far," says Andy.

"They took things too far a long time ago," I mutter.

XxX

In my next class, the whispering is still there, but there are glares and gestures between the Socs and greasers. It feels like a war is about to happen. Everyone is tense, everyone is angry. I feel like I'm stuck in the middle. Like it's my fault.

Two-Bit disappears and Steve doesn't seem to realize it, because I end up walking alone to my next class. I tune out everyone and doodle on the inside of my book until the bell rings, but I don't miss the heavy feeling between everyone and the eyes I know are on me. I meet Steve for lunch.

Two-Bit's still not there.

I tell Steve he didn't show up to walk with me to class. It's too suspicious for us to leave alone and Steve says he has a bad feeling. Two-Bit isn't the kind of person to disappear for no reason. He wouldn't let me walk alone, especially after Darry enforced it.

"Let's look around," Steve says. "Maybe he's getting in a fight somewhere."

We check the bathroom, his last classroom, and the parking lot, but he's not there. When we run out of reasonable options, we check places that we wouldn't think to normally look. We try the Principle's office, the track field, the gym, and then the locker room.

The last one is where we find him.

I walk in not really expecting to see anything. I halfheartedly call out his name a few times, wondering where he could be. I can hear running water and assume that someone is in here taking a shower, but then I realize how strange it would be for someone to be in here during lunch.

When I round the corner, my heart falls to my feet.

In the middle of a shallow puddle, someone is lying in a crumpled heap.

It's Two-Bit.

He's not moving. His face is littered with bruises, his shirt is ripped, and the water underneath him is mixed with his blood, which seems to be all over him as well.

I freeze in horror until Steve comes in a second later. He peers out around me to see what made me stop and then he rushes forward with a chain of swears, dropping to his knees next to Two-Bit. He touches Two-Bit's face gently, saying something to him that I can't understand. He leans close to listen for his breathing and mutters something else. Two-Bit still doesn't move.

This can't be happening. Two-Bit is one of the best fighters. He never gets hurt. He's the one who's always backing us up when we need it. The one always making us laugh. The one who is always there for us. Why would anyone want to hurt him? Why would anyone do this to someone?

"Ponyboy." Steve's voice snaps me back to reality. He's looking up at me with big eyes. "Get help."

And there's so much desperation in his voice that it sends me running and breaks my heart at the same time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for the reviews! I'm sorry for the wait.**

**I'm also sorry to say that I don't know if I'll be continuing this sequel. I'll still be writing stories, I'm just not sure about this one. We'll see where the cards fall. **

**Enjoy!**

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I bite my thumbnail as my good leg bounces and glance around before focusing my attention back on the floor. Steve is trying to get information on Two-Bit, but no one will tell us anything. One nurse tells us it's too soon, that they're still running tests. Another tells us she doesn't have information yet, but she won't be allowed to say what's wrong with him even when she knows. Steve makes sure he gets it through their heads that we're basically Two-Bit's family.

He calls Sodapop and tells him what happened. I know that Sodapop will call Darry and it will be a short matter of time before they both show up here.

"Anything?" I ask when Steve comes back. He throws himself down in the chair next to me and crosses his arms over his chest.

"No," he scowls. There's so much anger coming off him that I don't want to be sitting here anymore. Sometimes I can't really handle people being mad. It's part of the roller coaster of emotions that have graced me since I've come home.

I know it's my fault that Two-Bit is in here. It's my fault he's hurt. Those Socs are really trying to get to me and Two-Bit has always been there to defend me. He wouldn't need to defend me if I would just stop being so stupid about all of this.

"I'm sorry," I mutter absently.

"Why?" Steve asks in an irritated voice. I don't say anything. I feel him turn towards me and some of his anger seems to diminish.

"It's not your fault, kid," he says.

"Yeah, it is."

Before he can say anything else, we hear a loud bang from down the hall and turn towards the sound. Darry and Sodapop are hurrying towards us. I stand and Steve mirrors my action.

"How is he?" Sodapop asks quickly.

"We dunno," Steve says. "They won't tell us anything yet."

Darry jams his fists into his pockets and rocks back on his feet. "Did it look bad?'

Steve gives me a short glance and then nods. It makes Darry look over at me. I wonder if I look as bad as I feel.

"Why don't we sit down?" He suggests. It's more for my benefit that anyone else's, but before we get a chance, a doctor comes into the waiting room and heads our way. No one misses the way he seems to take an extra second to look at my cast and the bruises on my wrists.

Two-Bit is stable. He has a concussion, a few stitches, and some bruising, but the doctor tells us he should be fine as long as he spends the next few days resting. They want to keep him for a couple hours under observation and then he can go home. Darry asks if we can see him and the doctor shrugs and tells us to go right ahead.

We run into a nurse on the way there who informs us Two-Bit is resting, so we have to be quiet. I guess the pain medicine made him feel sick and he's sleeping it off.

We step inside his room and I feel bile rise in my throat. He's really pale. He looks peaceful, but it's an eerie kind of peaceful. I've never seen Two-Bit in a hospital before. I've never seen him look vulnerable.

No one really moves for a few moments. Sodapop and Darry are shooting me glances and this time I'm fully aware that I look as bad as I feel. But everyone else does, too.

XxX

Darry takes me home before Two-Bit gets released. I don't question why. Sodapop and Steve stay at the hospital so they can drive Two-Bit's car home after his mom comes to pick him up. Eventually Steve will have to tell Two-Bit we hotwired his car so we could follow the ambulance.

When we get home, I go straight to my room and collapse on my bed. I don't feel good. The image of a broken-looking Two-Bit is still burned into my memory. I got him hurt. I could have gotten him killed.

I don't know what to do.

"Pone?" Darry asks. I can feel him lingering in my doorway. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," I mutter.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"I'm fine."

Darry sighs and grumbles out, "All right" before he leaves. I pull my comforter over my head and bury my face into a pillow.

XxX

I wave goodbye to Steve and start up the front porch wearily. Inside the house, Darry is busy in the kitchen– probably cooking just to have something to do. He does that a lot. I meet him in there and open the fridge, taking a swig of chocolate milk.

"How's he doing?" Darry asks. I put the carton back and close the door.

"He's all right," I say, leaning back against the counter. "Still all smiles. He was pretty tired, though."

"Did he say who did it?"

I shake my head. "He didn't talk about it. How's Ponyboy doing?"

"I think he's sleeping," Darry says. He opens the cupboard and starts handing me plates. "He also didn't talk about it."

I sigh and set the plates down. Ponyboy had looked sick the moment we saw him in the hospital, but when we got into Two-Bit's room, I had honestly never been so worried that he was going to pass out. People aren't supposed to look that pale. Ever.

"I'll be right back," I say before heading down the hall. I knock lightly on Ponyboy's door and then open it, peaking my head inside.

He's lying on his bed, but he has the covers pulled over him, blocking my view of his face.

"I thought you couldn't sleep with blankets over your head?" I ask, walking over and sitting down on the side of his bed.

"I'm not sleeping," he mutters. I pull the covers back.

"I know. Do you wanna come eat some dinner?"

He rubs his eyes and shakes his head. He doesn't look nearly as bad as he did before, but he still doesn't look good. I know he's blaming himself for what happened to Two-Bit. I know seeing Two-Bit like that must have been terrifying.

"It's not your fault, Pone," I start, but he cuts me off before I can say anything else.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I know, but you–"

"Don't, Soda."

"Ponyboy."

He buries his face into his pillow, his voice muffled when he talks again. "Can you close the door on your way out?"

I sigh. This is going to be harder than I thought.

XxX

Two-Bit doesn't come to school the next day. He's not supposed to. The doctor said with his concussion, he needs to give his brain a rest. No reading, nothing that causes too much thinking, and definitely no school. Well, to Two-Bit that meant definitely.

Darry told me I didn't have to go to school either, but I wanted out of that house. Sodapop keeps trying to get me to talk, but I don't want to think about it. I want to pretend it was all a bad dream. That Two-Bit got jumped somewhere by the theater and fought off everyone of them. That he wasn't hurt.

That it wasn't my fault.

Steve doesn't talk much. He's not able to walk with me to all my classes, but he does when he can. One of the times he isn't able to walk with me, I see Jay at his locker. Feeling a sudden urge of anger, I limp over and then round on him, catching him by surprise.

"You're a liar."

He jumps. "What?"

"You said you were gonna turn them in," I say. Jay pushes his locker door open so he can see me better.

"What are you talking about?"

"You said you were gonna turn them in and you didn't. Now Two-Bit is hurt."

He looks confused. He opens his mouth to speak, but suddenly a fist comes out of nowhere and hits him in the face, sending him crashing to the floor. It's Steve.

"Steve, stop!" I try to push him back, but he's stronger than me.

"If you fucking _ever_ touch one of my friends again, I'll kill you. You got that?" He growls.

"Steve, it wasn't him," I protest.

"Be quiet," he says sharply. "Let's go."

He turns to leave and I look down at Jay in pity. His hand is over his nose and blood is gushing from between his fingers. He looks up at me with big eyes.

"Jay–"

Steve realizes I haven't followed and he snaps at me. "Now, Ponyboy."

I give Jay one last look and then sigh in defeat, leaving with Steve. Jay pushes himself back against his locker and watches us go.


	5. Chapter 5

It's a full blown war when we get home. I'm mad, Steve is mad, and we've only had each other to snap at on the way home.

When we get into the house, we're yelling at each other about things that don't make sense. Or maybe they do make sense, and I'm just too angry to really take notice of that. All I know is I can feel this frustration deep in my bones. I know it's not towards Steve, and his anger isn't towards me. We're just venting in the wrong direction.

"It's not like I don't know he was there!" Steve yells, slamming the door behind us. I round on him.

"You didn't have to punch him in the face! Did you think that would help anything?"

"Why are you taking his side?" He demands. "He could have killed you!"

"Yeah, he's so dangerous," I mock. "Good thing you were there to protect me from his evil locker."

Steve's face turns redder. "Shut up! You know what I'm talking about. I know he was there with the rest of them. He almost killed you."

My hands clench into fists at my side. "Shut up."

We hear someone clear their throat and look over to where Sodapop is standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking at us with raised eyebrows.

"What's going on?" he asks. I blink a few times and pick up the heavy silence.

"What're you doing here?"

"I…live here," Soda says in confusion. "What's wrong with you two?"

"Nothing," I say, and glare over at his best friend. "Steve was just getting ready to bite me."

Steve growls. "I punched that Jay kid in the face and Ponyboy has been yelling at me ever since."

"Oh please!" I yell. "You were the one acting all moody and snapping at me. You had no right to punch him! He didn't do anything!"

Steve gapes at me. "Are you kidding?! You know damn well that he–"

"Okay, stop, stop," Soda interrupts, moving between us. "Both of you, stop. Now. Ponyboy, go to the kitchen, or your room, or somewhere else. Steve, go sit on the couch."

I dig my fingers into the palms of my hands, holding my breath. Steve looks at Soda for a long moment before he moves and throws himself down on the couch, and I take that as my excuse to storm off down the hall.

Blood is rushing through my ears and I'm so distracted by my anger that the sudden pain in my injured leg catches me by surprise. I don't know if I've accidentally hit something or if I've somehow aggravated the injury, but it's so sharp that it makes me stumble and I collapse.

Almost immediately, I lean forward and bury my face into my arms, waiting for the pain to pass. It only lasts a few seconds, but the sound of me hitting the floor is enough to alert Sodapop, who is now at my side, trying to maneuver around me in the small space.

"Ponyboy, are you okay?" he asks, resting a hand on my back. "Can you hear me?"

I sigh deeply and nod, not wanting to move. Soda's too concerned to let me sit still, though. He urges me up so he can see my face and asks, "What happened?"

"I fell," I say stupidly.

"How'd you fall?"

"My stupid leg started hurting," I say, grabbing my cast in frustration and dropping my leg on the ground so it's out in front of me. Soda cringes when it makes contact, but I just lean back against the wall, continuing on. "This stupid cast is always in the way. I'm tired of not being able to walk right."

"I know, Pone," Soda says softly.

"I'm tired of not being able to get my leg wet," I say angrily, but I'm not sure what I'm really talking about anymore.

Soda examines me cautiously. "Ponyboy–"

"I'm tried of this stupid cast being itchy and hot. I'm tired of these stupid bruises that everyone looks at, and I'm definitely tired of people thinking Darry hits me. I know they do. I'm tired of it, Sodapop."

The ground blurs beneath me and I feel Soda rub the back of my head.

"Don't cry, Pone," he says gently, but everything finally breaks around me. I can't do it anymore.

"I could have gotten him killed, Soda," I whisper, bursting into sobs. I bury my face into my hands and Sodapop grabs me and pulls me close, crushing me to his chest.

"It wasn't your fault, Ponyboy," he says. "Two-Bit is all right."

I suck in a large, watery breath and choke out, "I'm s-so t-tired of this, S-Soda."

"I know," he says, rubbing my hair. "Shh, It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

"How? How c-can this b-be okay?'

"I don't know, Pone," he says softly. "But we'll make it so."

I push the heels of my hands into my eyes to stop the tears, and hope, more than anything, that Sodapop is right.

I'm just tired of this.

XxX

Sodapop makes me go lay down while he talks to Steve. When my head hits the pillow, I realize how tired I am. I fall asleep a few minutes later.

And then I dream.

I'm in a warehouse. It's dimly lit and I'm stumbling through the place looking for something when I hear voices. In the middle of the place is a tattered, old mattress with someone lying on it. Surrounding that someone are a bunch of boys who look like Socs, but I can't see their faces. The only person I can see is the boy on the bed.

And I realize with horror that it's Two-Bit.

Backing into the shadows, I see that he's tied down on the mattress. The Socs are saying things I can't understand, laughing at him when he tries to struggle. Then one of them pulls something from his pocket and before I can really comprehend what's happening, he dives the object into Two-Bit's stomach. Two-Bit screams in agony I have never heard before and he twists and writhes, pulling against his bindings.

The Soc rips the object free and I see that it's a knife. Two-Bit is still yelling, convulsing as he tries to get free. Blood is already pouring from the wound.

"Two-Bit!" I find myself screaming before I can stop myself. Every Soc turns towards me and my breath catches in my throat. They have no faces; no eyes, no mouths, no noses. Just blank skin.

"P-Ponyboy," Two-Bit chokes out painfully. "Run."

So I do. I jump over objects and dodge my way through the mess on the floor. The Socs follow me outside where it's getting dark. I quickly sprint into the woods, the faceless crowd close behind me. I look back to see how much room I have and feel my foot slip underneath the root of a tree. I go down hard, a sickening crunch sounding out under my cry. The Socs slow their pace, rounding on me. I throw my hands over my face.

"Ponyboy!"

Suddenly someone is shaking me. I can hear screaming, but it sounds far away. My surroundings start to fade.

"Ponyboy, wake up!"

With a gasp, I open my eyes and realize I'm the one who is screaming. I cut myself off and try to shove the hands away from me.

"Easy, Pone. You were having a nightmare. Relax."

Pulling out of the last bit of grogginess, I remember that I'm in my room. Sodapop is sitting on the side of my bed. I must have been having a loud nightmare to make him come in here and that surprises me. I haven't had one in a while.

"Are you okay?"

I nod and push myself up onto my elbows, looking around. The room is a lot brighter than I expect it to be. It's not dark outside yet, but the sun is going down. I glance at the clock.

"Whoa," I mutter. Sodapop pushes back some of my hair and feels my forehead. I close my eyes and sigh as he asks, "What?"

"I thought it was nighttime," I say. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Couple hours." He removes his hand and I open my eyes to look at him. "Darry'll be home in a few. Do you want to come out and eat dinner?"

"Why're you treating me like I'm made of glass?" I mutter, sitting up and rubbing my face. Sodapop gives me a look and I suddenly remember the meltdown earlier. I feel my ears turn red as the front door slams closed.

"Oh," I say. Sodapop ruffles my hair and gets to his feet.

"You're fine, don't worry. I'm gonna go see what Darry's making for dinner. Come out when you're ready."

I nod, but remember something right as he's about to leave. "Soda."

"Yeah?" he asks, turning back to look at me.

"Where's Steve?"

"He left," Soda says. "But he said he was sorry."

I smile. "No, he didn't. But thanks for trying."

Sodapop grins and winks at me before he disappears into the hall. I sigh and lean back against my pillows.

I really don't feel good anymore.


End file.
